Work Text:
“Chaise. Croissant. Foyer.”
“Your pronunciation isn’t bad,” said Dorian, waving an encouraging hand. “Say more.”
“Hmm. Lingerie. Rendezvous. Baguette. Oh! Macaron.”
Dorian chuckled. “A sentence, love?”
“You’re asking a lot,” said Zachary, smiling with a sigh. “Oh dear, conjugations, let me see.” He curled a finger against his lip, tilted his head downward to think, and a smile flicked across his face as he looked to Dorian again. “Je… veux un bisou.”
Dorian immediately brought him close, his thumb sliding across his jaw. “Pronunciation could be better,” he whispered. “Try again.”
Zachary practiced several times. And Dorian obliged each request.